


Transgressions

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Punishment, Spanking, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Perceptor is fed up with Brainstorm and decides to punish Brainstorm and Brainstorm enjoys himself a little too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transgressions

**Author's Note:**

> A commission done for gunthatshootsennui on tumblr.

It was well into the night cycle when Brainstorm finally decided to pull himself away from his work. He stretched in his seat, the components from his newest weapon stretched across his workbench in a disorderly fashion.  The gun was coming along nicely; a big one with plenty of shiny bits and multiple pathways for laser fire. He was proud of all his inventions, but this one nipped at his pride in a particular way that only a few had achieved. It would be ready for testing in just a few cycles and he could hardly contain his glee.

If he could, he would be grinning right now, so self-assured that everyone was going to love it. Not that he had any doubt in the first place, being the ship’s genius and all. But it was nice to be reminded every now and again.

He pushed away from the station, practically skipping as he left the labs. He passed by Perceptor’s work place on the way, noticing that the other scientist’s presence was lacking. Odd, considering he had a habit of working well into almost the morning cycle. As it was, it wasn’t even late enough that the bar would be closed. Brainstorm’s wings perked in interest.

While Brainstorm made it his personal mission in life to keep tabs on his self-proclaimed rival, he thought it best to return to his quarters. Besides, if there were some gossip to behold, he’d be sure to hear about it by tomorrow.

Walking through the corridors, he didn’t pass many. The occasional patron from Swerve’s or some sleepless residents were the only people he passed. He waved to a few, some of them being friendly back and others ignoring him entirely. He pouted at the rude ones, but it was nothing to dampen his good mood.

His quarters were only a short distance from the labs, so it didn’t take him long to reach the front door. Inside, it was only mildly well lit, a result of the single light left on from the morning cycle. He has left in a rush this morning, leaving his normally tidy living area a bit disorganized. His gaze wandered around the room a bit more, pausing on the figure sitting on the other bed.

He scowled.

Ever since he had joined on the Lost Light, he had been forced to bunk with Perceptor. It was ship-wide policy that everyone had to have a roommate (save for the one or two exceptions) and Brainstorm was forced to comply. It was only unfortunate that unlike many of the others, he didn’t have the pleasure of picking his roommate. Apparently, Ultra Magnus _did_ have a sense of humor.

At least he had solved the mystery of where Perceptor had went after leaving the lab.

If Brainstorm didn’t know any better, he’d say the other scientist was sulking, sitting on his berth with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed over his chest. His optics bore a hole through Brainstorm’s helm, watching his every move. He was reminded of how successful Perceptor had been as a Wrecker in that moment and he shivered in a combination of fear and an unknown feeling that might have been arousal.

“Hello Brainstorm,” he said icily.

Brainstorm waved politely, coming to sit at the edge of his own berth. It only succeeded in bringing him closer to Perceptor’s gaze. He found he had trouble looking at him for too long.

“Tell me, what is the one thing I’ve always said about being in my lab?” Perceptor’s voice edged into murderous territory. Brainstorm’s usual bravado was beginning to fail him.

There were a lot of things that Perceptor said about his lab. He was a stickler for rules, enough so that it almost drove Brainstorm up a wall. That was a question that could mean many things. Just as Brainstorm was about to list off, Perceptor cut him off.

“Do not leave messes, especially at my station. I have told you countless times about this. You left numerous bottles of dangerous chemicals open, nearly destabilizing one of my experiments and causing a catastrophic error. I will not work like this anymore!” Perceptor was fuming.

Although the tingle of fear was still there, Brainstorm couldn’t help a barely-there sigh of relief. This was an old argument, one that Brainstorm would wave off and quickly forget. It wasn’t that Brainstorm didn’t understand Perceptor’s plight, but sometimes, he was just forgetful. It wasn’t his fault that he had more important matters to attend to.

Brainstorm waved him off. “I doubt it was even that bad. I can’t help it if my genius can’t be contained enough to remember something like that.”

There was a low-growl from the ex-Wrecker, something that took him completely off-guard. Rarely did he show so much emotion.  It was invigorating. “That attitude is exactly the kind that’s going to get us all killed one day.”

“You get too caught up in the little things, Perceptor,” tutted Brainstorm. “And people wonder how I’m the better scientist.”

At that, Perceptor leaped to his pedes, stalking toward Brainstorm. The flier tried his best to shrink away from Perceptor’s advance, but he was not fast enough.  He stared wide opticed, Perceptor’s face mere inches from his own. Perhaps he had pushed his luck a little too far this time.

“You’re too arrogant for your own good,” he hissed. His venting ghosted over Brainstorm’s mask, right where his lips should have been. “I don’t know how you can even call yourself a scientist when it’s clear that the only regard you have is for yourself.”

Narrowing his optics, Brainstorm was about to protest, until Perceptor decided to continue. “I can’t wait until the day that someone takes you down a peg or two.”

“Is that a threat?” Brainstorm wanted it to sound like an accusation, but came out like a frightened squeak. Normally, Perceptor wasn’t known for being violent off the battlefield. Of course, it was also well known that he was perfectly capable of killing a mech in his sleep. He wasn’t one for making idle threats. That knowledge made Brainstorm’s venting catch in his throat.

Perceptor leaned further over Brainstorm, nearly whispering in his audio. “I said no such thing. But if you don’t learn to clean up after yourself, it might just become one.”

The dangerous promise in Perceptor’s voice was doing weird things with Brainstorm’s processor. He decided to push his luck further. After all, he was always such a curious mech. “What are you going to do?”

A smirk crept onto Perceptor’s face. He flipped Brainstorm around, pinning him to the berth. A squawk of protest left Brainstorm, leaving him flailing for purchase. He ended up gripping the edge of the berth tightly. He felt Perceptor hovering over him, his chest plate only mere inches from his wings.  They twitched under the slight feeling.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson.” Brainstorm stared quizzically at the berth before Perceptor seemed to vanish above him. He didn’t move far, though, standing just outside of reach.

Brainstorm’s vents stalled for just a moment as he waited for Perceptor to make the first move. He swallowed a taunt, feeling the other scientist’s knees graze across the back of his thighs. A hand grazed across his wings, deceptively light. Brainstorm was confused at the motion, his sensors lighting up with the tingles of pleasure. Then they travelled further south, to his hips before Perceptor’s presence was removed completely.

After a pause, the hand returned in the form of a loud smack over the panels of his aft. A loud yelp left Brainstorm, squirming in his seat at the sensation. He opened his mouth to protest, but it died in his throat as a choked whimper when another smack hit him in the same spot.

He couldn’t believe it. Here he was, a grown mech, being treated like some misbehaving sparkling. It was shocking and degrading. He had no idea that Perceptor was capable of such unethical behavior when dealing with unruly underlings. They had worked together for long enough that Brainstorm’s more bothersome behaviors were often dealt with strict chiding, but this was definitely going overboard. Or maybe his gentle prodding from earlier was a little too much, although he would never admit to something like that aloud.

“If you are going to act like a sparkling, then you shall be treated like one,” said Perceptor, echoing Brainstorm’s earlier thoughts. Brainstorm winced when another harsh smack met his aft.

It was also no small secret that Brainstorm held no small amount of admiration for the other scientist, to the point that it bordered into obsession. While Brainstorm would always boast about being the vastly superior mind, there was no mistaking how brilliant Perceptor was. A crush was too generous off a word to describe his feelings for Perceptor, but it was definitely some odd form of affection.

Any sort of attention from Perceptor was usually fine with him. And the longer he lay there, the more he realized how arousing it was to see Perceptor like this. The normally reserved scientist completely losing himself to his anger and all courtesy of Brianstorm. It was enough to burn through his humiliation to curl a heady ball of arousal in the base of his tanks.

Perceptor was known for being dangerous and the heavy hits against his aft were not so subtle reminders of the amount of power he held under his armor. Brainstorm didn’t enjoy pain, but somehow, he found himself shivering, feeling an uncomfortable tightness twist behind his codpiece.

Another hard smack had Brainstorm moaning, spreading his legs over the edge of the berth. He ground his panel against the berth, ever so slightly raising his aft. He felt the locks on his codpiece begin to give way with an addition slap, but he managed to keep it from opening all the way. However, he couldn’t stop the slight tremble from the fold of his valve nor his spike from straining against the metal.

The hits continued, getting steadily rougher and rougher. Brainstorm’s situation only worsened the longer it continued. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of transfluid filling up behind his codpiece and it was taking all his concentration to not snap it open. Perceptor was either oblivious to the matter, or just didn’t care. It was hard to tell with the intensity of the blows.

Strangled moans kept coming forth from Brainstorm. Beside the heavy noises of metal on metal, the only other sounds were the noises of Perceptor’s heavy venting. He seemed to be over working himself, as the sound of his fans working overtime was also prevalent in the background.

With a few more slaps, Brainstorm was dangerously on the edge of overload. He whimpered, clutching the edge of the berth, leaving large dents in the metal. Perceptor’s hands were large and strong when they connected with his body and all he could think about was what they could do in various other situations.

He felt beads of transfluid dribbling down his leg. His thighs trembled, while his hips kept rotating into the berth. His aft was burning painfully, but none of that registered in Brainstorm’s processor.

Finally, one hard tap right in the middle of Brainstorm’s aft was enough to send him over the edge with a scream. The hits stopped after that, Perceptor no doubt stepping back at the odd display.

When Brainstorm came back to reality, he barely had time to bask in the afterglow before Perceptor spoke. His voice was ragged and he was obviously trying desperately to control his venting in between words. “There, now I hope you’ll remember to clean up after yourself next time.”

Brainstorm shivered, his body completely numb from his overload. He nodded his ascent, not really registering anything that Perceptor was telling him.

“Good. I shall hope to not repeat this performance.” At the mention of a repeat, Brainstorm gave a not-so-subtle wiggle. He definitely would try harder next time.


End file.
